


Take Me From The Crossroads

by wayfindering



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Destiny Islands (Kingdom Hearts), Feels, Friendship, Gen, Haven, Hearts, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Promises, vanitas is having a rough time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22288339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayfindering/pseuds/wayfindering
Summary: Hearts are hard to get used to, and sometimes you just can't do it by yourself. But all Vanitas has known in his life is how to go it alone. Even when he's afraid.
Relationships: Sora & Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts), Sora/Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts), sovani
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	Take Me From The Crossroads

Vanitas was on his knees in the sand when Sora found him, hunched over and hugging himself. He looked small, for once, without the height of those platform boots, without his haughty bearing, even out here in the dark of the evening where he usually thrived.

But, Sora supposed, that also made it a good place for Vanitas to hide.

"It shouldn't be so hard to understand." The sounds of nighttime on the beach almost drowned out the words but Sora could still hear them. Vanitas's voice was petulant but faded; defeated.

Sora stepped closer, unconsciously swaying to the familiar rhythm of the waves behind him, breathing in the salt-tinged air.

"What shouldn't?" he asked, trying to keep Vanitas talking.

How to have relationships, probably, if his recent spate of arguments with nearly everyone was anything to go on. He hadn't found fitting in very easy since he'd been dragged back from the brink of nonexistence. Sora was about the only one Vanitas didn't fight with, and he was also the only one who was still fully optimistic. He still believed that Vanitas could be something more than a sullen remnant of darkness. He knew Vanitas didn't _want_ to fight, the boy was just a little on edge, testy, trigger happy--

Vanitas looked up and Sora's breath caught in his throat. The soft light glinted off tear tracks that led the way back to moon-drenched violet eyes still overflowing and so wide, too wide.

_\--afraid._

Oh.

"What shouldn't be so hard to understand?" he asked again, gently.

"My--heart." Vanitas said the word haltingly, still unused to claiming it.

_Oh._

On impulse, as usual, Sora knelt and gathered the other boy into his arms before he could think better of it. Vanitas didn't hug him back, didn't unwrap himself from the shelter of his own arms, but he also didn't stiffen or pull away.

He should have known. But then, Sora had rarely felt at odds with his own heart, and he'd never been without one.

What would it really be like, to be convinced that you didn't--that you _couldn't--_ have a heart, no matter how you felt or how you tried? To grow up thinking you belonged only to darkness? To have everything good held out of your reach, to be tormented and taunted and talked down to your entire life? To be so _alone?_

Vanitas slowly relaxed, slowly leaned into Sora and Sora held him all the tighter, pressing the side of his face into the soft black hair so much like his own. But, in some ways, so very different.

Even Roxas and Xion, even Naminé couldn't relate to him, not really.

But still, Sora should have thought about it sooner.

He wasn't some ordinary Organisation XIII member who just needed time to readjust to normal life again. He wasn't one of the born-Nobodies who banded together as they figured out how to navigate their hard-won freedom.

He was something different. Something tougher, and something more precious at the same time.

Sora was suddenly glad he'd come searching in spite of everyone's advice; Riku's logic was no match for Sora's intuition in situations like this.

Vanitas didn't need space. He needed an anchor. He needed reassurance.

He needed _sanctuary._

***

Warmth enveloped Vanitas, making him realise how cold he felt. It was a warm enough night, but he still felt chilled from within. Sora held him until every speck of that ice disappeared; until he forgot about the ache in his knees and his throat; until his iron grip on himself loosened and his hands fell down to his lap; until his eyes closed of their own accord and his breathing steadied.

No words were spoken. For once, Vanitas didn't feel like he needed them. Sora, life-long master of having a heart, somehow understood.

When Sora pulled away and sat back on his heels it was only to reach up around his own neck. Vanitas tilted his head but didn't have a moment to wonder before Sora grabbed one of his hands in his own and with the other, pressed something cool and metallic into his grip.

A chain curled in and spilled over his fingers as Vanitas held the object up. Its mirrored surface cut out a slice of the star-dotted sky overhead in an all-too familiar shape.

Vanitas stared at it, then stared at Sora. Just like that, he was out of breath again, brow furrowed, mouth slightly ajar. Questions lined themselves up behind his tongue but of course only the stupidest one made its way out.

"Your necklace?"

"Yeah."

Aaand Sora didn't elaborate. Fuck him.

"...Why?" Vanitas managed.

"It's meant to be given," Sora explained. "It wasn't always mine; Riku's mum gave it to him, and then he gave it to me. And I've had it more than long enough. It's a promise. Uh, kind of like a good luck charm." Sora shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "It means...protection."

Emotions, some of them even more unfamiliar than usual, beset Vanitas's heart. His hand clenched around the silver crown possessively but his habitual sneer came to his defense first, twisting his face. "I can beat you 3 out of 5 times on the sparring g--"

"No no no! It's not like that!" Sora cut Vanitas off, waving his hands in front of him. He shook his head and then hesitated, like he was trying to put words together.

Cautiously, Vanitas waited, still gripping the necklace like part of him already understood, eyeing the boy kneeling in the sand in front of him.

Sora didn't speak but reached out one tanned arm. Vanitas watched it as if in slow motion.

Skin, gleaming blue and bronze in the silvery moonlight. It looked smooth, in spite of the occasional discolourations. A thin arm, almost no muscle definition, but it belied the strength it contained. Deft fingers, a little calloused but not rough, almost delicate in this light adorned with painted nails, bright and glittery but somehow never out of place; nothing was, on Sora.

Before he realised it that hand was flush against Vanitas's chest. He was a little surprised it didn't just keep going--right past his shirt, through his skin, into his rib cage to touch whatever could be found inside.

It didn't, but the pressure was comforting even so, and it kept the chill from creeping back in.

"There are more ways to hurt than just physical." Sora's voice had a low, ardent quality Vanitas had only heard a few times before. He felt the pull to meet Sora's eyes but he couldn't stop staring at that arm. Old nicks and scars here and there were proof of a childhood spent without _curaga._ Vanitas couldn't relate. His scars ran deeper, but left fewer marks.

"There are more things we need protection from, too. And hey, sometimes," Sora moved to grab Vanitas's hand in both of his and Vanitas finally felt his eyes drawn upward until they locked on the inescapable deep blue gaze, intense and nearly black in the shadow of an unruly halo. "Sometimes even the strongest people alive need a little help."

It was dumb, sappy shit. The kind of shit that the denizens of light were always telling one another. Vanitas swallowed hard, unable to look away. He didn't think words like that would ever be turned on _him._

Strong. _Sora_ thought _he_ was strong. More than physically.

The soft hands were squeezing his tight enough to dig the sharp points of the crown into his palm but even the pain was comforting, grounding.

It meant protection. From other people, maybe even from himself. It meant belonging. It meant not hiding. Not..being afraid. He'd never had something like that before.

"Thanks," he whispered, the word falling unbidden from his lips for the first time in living memory. It was strange and new and small in the face of the grand words Sora liked to pull out of nowhere, but he hoped it was enough.

For another second he was lost in those eyes, as open and welcoming as the night reflected in their depths. Then Sora smiled, and Vanitas caught his breath as the sun came out.

"It's gonna be okay, Van. You're not alone anymore."


End file.
